


searching for a light (for a right)

by Kalgalen



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Asexual Character, Internalized Acephobia, M/M, Sex-Repulsed Ace Character, discussion of asexuality, make it a tag you cowards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 12:59:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19107574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalgalen/pseuds/Kalgalen
Summary: Some people make the mistake of assuming he's naive about sex, for the simple reason he hasn't dated in a while. Tim has called him a prude, at one point, and implied that he was somehow afraid of the intimacy required by the act; he wasn’t entirely wrong, but this definitely isn’t the reason for Jon's disinterest and general bafflement toward what most people seemed to consider as "what makes them human".Jon simply hasn't found the right person. That is all it is: high standards, and a reticence to let people in.(In which Jon finds out society is wrong about what a romantic relationship should be.)





	searching for a light (for a right)

Some people make the mistake of assuming he's naive about sex, for the simple reason he hasn't dated in a while. Tim has called him a prude, at one point, and implied that he was somehow afraid of the intimacy required by the act; he wasn’t entirely wrong, but this definitely isn’t the reason for Jon's disinterest and general bafflement toward what most people seemed to consider as "what makes them human".

Jon simply hasn't found the right person. That is all it is: high standards, and a reticence to let people in.

Georgie had almost been it - someone who didn't mind his misanthropic tendencies and could give as good as she got when he was being an asshole, someone funny and witty and strong, someone who could anchor him and make him want to be better. It had been perfect, then it had been only fine, and the harmony had gotten discordant. Nobody's fault, really; just two people, not meant to be. That's what Georgie had said when she'd broken it off, leaving him with a kiss on the cheek and a pit in his stomach.

She'd never blamed his avoidance of any sex-related topics and activities, of course; Jon isn't blind enough to ignore it must have been part of it, though.

Not the right person. That's all. That's fine.

Martin, though. Jon trusts him, and it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he trusts him more than he's ever trusted anyone in his life. Granted, this might be due to the number of times they've found themselves together in life-threatening situation, but Jon's decided not to question it anymore. He's very fond of Martin, _loves_ him, even - and just tasting those words in his mind ( _he loves him)_ makes his chest tighten and warm up at the same time, makes him feel full and at peace and safe. As far as Jon is concerned, for now and for the foreseeable future, Martin is ideal.

Martin is the person Jon could see himself broaching the subject of sex with.

Jon inwardly cringes at the thought. _God, it sounds so impersonal. Broaching the subject? This is about intercourse, for God's sake, not discussing rent or getting together to write a grocery list._ He sneaks a glance at Martin, who's half-scribbling in his notebook, half-watching the documentary about underwater ruins they've decided to put on (though Jon couldn't tell what's being discussed at the moment, as his mind has been fairly busy with more important matters for the past fifteen minutes.)

Martin looks tranquil, entirely relaxed in a way that's new to Jon who’s used to seeing him under some kind of stress or another. He'd never realized how anxious Martin was all the time until he'd gotten to see him in a safe place, with Jon for only audience; now that he knows how beautiful Martin looks when truly at ease, he wished they could keep living in that moment, away from the rest of the world - just them, and time frozen in a picture-perfect instant of domestic bliss.

Martin catches him staring, of course. Jon looks away immediately, embarrassment so deeply ingrained it takes him a second to remember he's allowed to have that. He can stare at this man all he want and it won't be - weird. Probably. He tentatively looks back; Martin is giving him a quizzical look, but his small smile is enough to reassure Jon that it is, indeed, fine.

"Something on your mind?" Martin asks, putting his pencil down so he can grab Jon’s hand. His thumb starts rubbing soothing circles against Jon's scarred skin.

Jon licks his lips, and he can almost taste the question pressing against them. _"Can we have sex"_ feels too clumsy, too pragmatic - and too scary, like a commitment Jon can't take back once he's said it. Not that he'd want to take it back, right? Martin's the right person, he's sure of it, and beside - Jon doesn't want what they have to end the same way it did with Georgie. He just has to get over this hesitation, and this _fear_ , and this vague, inexplicable repulsion crawling along his spine when he thinks about being this vulnerable -

But Martin is the right person. He has to be.

In the end, Jon doesn't speak. He reaches out instead, curling his free hand behind Martin's neck; Martin only too willingly bends down for the kiss. A pleased sigh escapes him when Jon deepens it; Jon can feel him going even more relaxed under his fingers, and Martin lets him pluck the notebook from his hands, unresistant. Jon breaks away for a moment, just the time to set it aside on the coffee table - revels in the way Martin chases after him, as if the only air he's able to breathe is the one coming out of Jon's lungs.

Martin makes a noise of surprise as Jon settles on his lap, but a look at his face - eyes wide and eager, blush spreading down his neck - is confirmation enough that he doesn't mind the new turn of event. Jon takes advantage of the fact that for once he towers over Martin to cup his jaw and tilt his head up, depositing a kiss below Martin's left eye before dropping down to his mouth again.

The documentary on TV is still going behind them, forgotten but not muted, and the droning voice-over offers a well-needed anchor for Jon's racing mind. He's enjoying this, he thinks - the soft sounds Martin produces as Jon runs his fingers through his hair, Martin's hands on Jon's hips, the barely-there skin-on-skin contact where Jon's shirt rides up a bit above his waistband - this is fine. This is bolder than anything Jon's ever attempted before, but it's not what he had in mind yet.

Jon grinds down experimentally; Martin gasps, digging his nails into Jon's sides.

Good. That's good, that's nice - this is going _well_ , Jon tells himself. He's really enjoying the small eager noises Martin is making - not quite enjoying them enough to ignore the unmistakable feeling of dread building up in his gut, however. He'd expected the heat of desire, and instead gets the icy urge to be anywhere but here. Which is - ridiculous. He wants to be here. He wants to do this. He wants _Martin_.

He wants to fill the hollow in his chest, the _wrongness_ he'd been told all his adult life would be solved by a special someone.

And if Martin's not it - but Jon can't see himself with anyone else. This is his last chance to get it right.

He bites down on Martin’s neck, perhaps a bit harder than necessary, right over his pulse point. Martin yelps, tenses then melts again; his fingers are tight over Jon’s hips, digging almost painfully into his flesh. Jon can feel his heartbeat between his teeth; it matches Jon’s own, strong and fast, though maybe not for the same reasons. Martin inhales sharply.

“Jon, wait-”

Jon pulls back immediately - half-hoping Martin will call it off, for any reason, because if Jon is the one to do it, he'll have to end their relationship in the same breath. Sex is part of a healthy romantic relationship, and if he can't _do_ it, then -

“Are you sure - ah, are you sure you want to do this?” Martin asks, and Jon swallows back the negative before it can even reach his lips.

“Do you?” he asks instead, not quite managing to maintain eye contact the whole time. “Want to do this, I mean?”

“I - of course I do! I really, really do,” Martin chuckles somewhat disbelievingly, his hands distractedly smoothing down Jon’s sides.

“Then I do too,” Jon says decisively, though the lie leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

The bitterness softens at the sight of Martin's expression; Jon has been cynical for a long time, but even he can't recognize it at anything but pure, unadulterated love. He stops breathing, for a second, his fingers still tangled in Martin's hair - then lets out a shaky sigh, falls more than he leans to kiss Martin again.

Martin answers eagerly, his hands slipping under the hem of Jon's shirt, cool fingers splaying across warm skin. It's only due to the difference in temperature that Jon's first instinct is to shy away from the touch - has to be. He presses closer in retaliation, rocks slowly on Martin's lap and swallows every one of his moans, and for a moment, the discomfort fades; for a moment, he gets lost in the awareness that he's the one getting Martin to produce those desperate noises, that he's the one making him feel _good._

He lets Martin divest him of his shirt, and he's almost sure he can go through this - can enjoy it, even, especially if it means making Martin happy -

His whole body seizes up as soon as he feels the thug at his waist as Martin starts unbuckling his belt. Before he's even aware of it, his hands are curled around Martin's wrists - so tight Martin's skin around his fingers is quickly turning a worrying shade of white.

 _This has to hurt,_ Jon thinks through layers of muddy panic. He can't make himself unclench his fists, though; frozen like a rabbit in the headlights.

The silence seems to stretch forever. Jon doesn't look up from where he's gripping Martin's arms, as if not moving will stop time and keep everything from crashing down.

Then, finally:

"Jon?"

Martin sounds unsure, as if worried _he's_ done something wrong. Jon opens his mouth, tries to answers - tries to _fix it,_ before the situation becomes unsalvageable - but nothing comes out. His chest feels too tight, and each shaky breath he takes seems to constrict it a little bit more.

"God, Jon, are you alright? Can you speak?"

Jon starts rocking back and forth again, this time to try to keep himself from breaking down. He barely even notices Martin tugging himself away from his grasp and delicately pushing Jon off his lap, settling him back on the couch. Jon doesn’t realize he's trembling until Martin takes his hands between his, anxiously rubbing Jon's palms to help his fingers relax from their claw-like shape. He's talking, but Jon can't focus on the words long enough to make them out; in the end, Martin quiets down. He almost pulls away at one point, but Jon clings to him, irrationally scared that if he doesn't Martin will disappear forever.

Eventually, he calms down enough to unclench his teeth.

"Could I, uh - could I have some water? Please?" he croaks. Martin starts.

"Of course. You - you're going to have to let me go, though."

Jon tightens his grip on reflex, then forces himself to release Martin. Martin stands up and leaves for the kitchen, promising to be back right away. Jon can hear him open the cupboard for a glass and let the water run to fill it. He closes his arms around himself, and exhales. He feels like an _idiot,_ now that he's come out of his panic attack. Now Martin will want to know, he'll need to understand, and then he'll - he'll -

Jon shakes his head. Whatever has to happen will happen.

He puts his shirt back on, as if an extra layer of cotton could somehow be enough to stop him from shivering entirely. Martin comes back and hands him the glass of water, then sits next to him; Jon can't bring himself to look at him in the eye, and very slowly sips his water to avoid talking. Martin lets him get away with it for about five minutes before breaking the silence.

"Jon -" he starts, then stops, sighs. "We're going to have to talk about this, you know."

His first instinct is to shut it all down, let Martin believe whatever he wants and save himself the humiliation of having to confess that _sex scares him._ But he's better than that, now; he can talk about how he feels, even though he's not quite sure how to explain it to _himself_ in the first place. So he takes a deep breath, and sets his half-empty glass on the coffee table.

"I - Yes. Of course. You're right."

He closes his eyes, because it's easier that having to confront Martin's gaze head on. Finding the words remains hard.

"I... panicked. I'm sorry, I can't - do this. Sex. I assure you, it's not you, it's -" He realizes what he's saying and cuts himself off with a humorless chuckle. "What I mean is, I'm sorry for - leading you on? I thought I could - because it's you, and I - I thought I _could,_ but apparently not. I'm sorry."

The silence weights down on him, and he braces himself for anything that might come next. Martin isn't a cruel man, and Jon's not worried about his reaction; he is, however, terrified at the idea of hurting him more than he already has been.

"Why -" Martin says, sounding confused. "Why are you apologizing?"

This prompts Jon to open his eyes again. Martin looks as baffled as he himself feels.

"Pardon?"

"Why are you apologizing, Jon? I - if anything, _I'm_ the one who should apologize, I had no idea - God, I - are you alright?" He sounds horrified now, and scoots away from Jon, tucking his hands at his sides. "I am so sorry if you felt like you had to - you looked really shook back there!"

"Yes, well." Jon frowns, looking down on his hands. "It was a surprise for me as well, believe me."

"Hang on, have you never had...?"

"That is - what I am trying to say, yes. And -" Jon pauses, trying to pick the best way to rip that band-aid off. "I don't think I'll ever want to have sex. Or - even just, be comfortable with the idea of it. I thought I just needed to find the right person, but I _did,_ and it still... the very idea makes my skin crawl," he says resentfully, before he thinks about how it might sound to Martin. "I'm not saying it's - gross, or anything - though, honestly - it's just... not for me."

He picks at his nails, not wanting to face Martin's disappointment. When Martin doesn't interject, he speaks up again tentatively:

"I'm sorry. Again. I know that sex is the kind of thing people expect from a romantic relationship, so I'd understand if you - didn't want to, uh. Keep this going. Keep - me."

It is so awkward it makes Jon cringes, and he breathes out deeply. Despite how painful the process is, he’s glad he got to get this off his chest.

Now everything rests on Martin.

"Well, that's -" Martin starts, then fumbles for his words for a bit. "I mean, I'm not - I'd be alright with no sex, it's - it's good, at least I think so, personally, but I can do without, I just - I just thought you wanted it, but if you don't, it's totally fine too? Only - please, tell me if something is making you uncomfortable, alright? Even if - _especially if_ you're doing it because you think it'll make me happy."

Jon blinks at him, bewildered by how easy Martin has managed to make the situation appear.

"...Oh," he says eventually. "I will... keep that in mind. If you’re sure it’s not an issue, I - alright." Then: "Thank you, Martin."

Martin offers him a warm smile, as if he understands - and Jon doesn't doubt for a moment that he does. Then Martin holds out a tentative hand toward Jon.

"Do you want to... hug, maybe? Or, uh, cuddle? You don't have to, of course - oh. Hi."

Jon doesn't wait for him to finish, breaching the gap between them to tuck himself close. It feels natural to drop his head on Martin's shoulder and to take his hand. It feels - _them._

"Is this good?" Martin asks anxiously, and Jon tilts his head up to kiss his jaw.

"Perfect."

"Oh, good. Good, good."

Martin drops a kiss on the top of his head, and they settle back down in the couch. The documentary is still going, but Jon gives it barely an fraction of his attention as he starts dozing off, exhausted.

"Jon?" Jon hums, and Martin continue: "The right person, uh?"

Jon laughs quietly and squeezes Martin's hand.

 

**Author's Note:**

> @jonny thanks for giving The Aces a character to project on all we want
> 
> catch me @kalgalen on [tumblr](https://kalgalen.tumblr.com/) & [twitter](https://twitter.com/kalgalen)


End file.
